


One Hour

by LawrenceKinden



Category: Original Work
Genre: Absentee Parents, Bare Bottom, Brat, Gen, Hairbrush, Sisters, Spanking, spank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 15:11:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrenceKinden/pseuds/LawrenceKinden
Summary: Raising four little sisters is downright hectic. [Story Depicts Spanking]





	One Hour

As I'm sure you can imagine, having to raise my four little sisters isn't always fun. I help with lots of homework, have never been on a date, and rarely have time for myself. I've become a decent cook, and expert hair-braider, have given many baths, read many stories, and tended many cuts, scrapes, and bruises. And despite that I will readily spank the bare bottom of any one of them should they need it, I do love them, and they love me. At seventeen years old, I've been my little sisters' only real parent for nearly a decade.

We were at our summer cabin in the mountains on the hottest summer in years. It's isolated, the nearest neighbors are three miles through the forest, but we have a pool and game room, and there's a lake we get all to ourselves, and several acres of forest, and plenty of room to just play.

It was early morning of the first day of summer break. Our parents were overseas, as usual, and I was in charge, as usual. I was just waking up when my peace was shattered by the tattling little tail of Betsy Ann.

"Terry made a mess!" she shouted to wake me.

Immediately, I knew what had happened.

Terry, the youngest of us, had been thirsty and instead of asking for help, she had gone to the refrigerator. Likely she hadn't been giving the situation her full attention and had ended up spilling whatever jug of juice she wanted all over the kitchen floor. Betsy, who loves seeing her sisters in trouble, came running to me.

I dragged myself out of bed, still not fully awake, and clad only in a large t-shirt.

Betsy, the experienced little tattletale, took off before I could get to her. She knew I hated being woken up early, not to mention tattling and breaking the sanctity of my bedroom.

By the time I got downstairs, I was awake, and swept into the kitchen, glancing at the orange juice making a sizeable puddle in the kitchen. Terry stood in the puddle, finishing her glass of juice.

"Terry, this is just silly. You can ask for help."

"I'm sorry, Lindsey," she said sadly, "I was just a little thirsty."

I sat in one of the kitchen chairs, pulled her to me, and draped the little girl over my lap. "You should have asked for help, like I told you last night." I lifted Terry's nightdress over her waist to reveal her pale bottom. "And yesterday morning."

I spanked her.

"And last Tuesday."

I spanked her again.

I looked up to see Betsy standing at the doorway to the kitchen, watching.

"You," I pointed at Betsy. "Unless you wanna be next, I suggest you go elsewhere."

Betsy laughed as she ran off.

I returned my attention to my youngest sister, smacking her backside with quick, short pops. Terry squeaked and squirmed as I peppered her bottom with sharp spanks. Her pale little cheeks quickly turned vibrant pink.

When I stopped, Terry was sniffling and crying. I set her on her feet and she looked at me with big blue eyes, fat tears rolling down her face, her lower lip a giant pout. Her hands went to her bottom and she rubbed gently.

"Next time, ask for help."

She nodded, black strands of hair flying about her face, still pouting. I smiled. She was simply too cute. I hugged her and kissed her nose and her pout melted to a smile.

"C'mon," I swatted her lightly, "let's clean this up."

She and I mopped up the juice and I poured her a new glass. By the time we were done, Terry had recovered and went to watch cartoons with Lori and Betsy. I made a fresh batch of juice and poured myself a glass, draining it quickly.

I glanced at a clock. It was 7:00 am.

"I'm going back to bed for a while," I told them. They didn't even acknowledge my existence. Ungrateful little demons. I walked up the stairs and down the dim hallway. I was almost to my door before impaling my foot on an unseen obstacle.

"Damnit." I growled as I barely kept from tumbling to the floor. Bending down, I found a plastic unicorn standing in the hallway, a shiny droplet of my blood adorning its pure white horn. I sighed. Sally had again left her toys in the hallway.

Again.

I hadn't seen the eldest of my little sisters in front of the television with the others, so I went to her room and opened the door. As I had expected, there sat the blonde thirteen year old clad in her pajamas, surrounded by dragons and elves and unicorns and all other sorts of magical creatures. She looked up at me as I entered, unicorn in hand. Her eyes got real big. Sally is the best behaved of my sisters and spanked lest often, which is to say about once a week rather than every day. And yet, she always has this surprised look on her face when she realizes she's about to have her bottom smacked.

"I nearly killed myself on your toy," I said.

Sally jumped up. "I'm sorry," she said. Sally has a soft voice, nearly a whisper. "I forgot."

"I reminded you last night," I told her as I closed the door.

Sally looked at her feet. I took her by the arm and led her to her bed.

"Oh Lindsey, please don't spank me. I'm really, really sorry."

I shook my head. "You didn't do as you were told." I pulled Sally over my bare lap. "And because of it, I nearly tripped and hurt myself." I pulled Sally's pajama bottoms down to her knees baring her bottom. Sally began crying. She never did take a spanking well. Sometimes just the mention of one was enough to start her sobbing.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but the rules are there for a reason, and the repeated reminders haven't worked. And you know the consequences."

I spanked sharply.

Sally kicked her feet, her pajamas bunched at her ankles and showed off her pale white legs. I spanked her thighs and she squirmed.

I finished the spanking with one extra hard smack to the middle of her bottom before standing her on her feet where she rubbed her bottom vigorously.

"Are there any more toys out where they shouldn't be?" I asked.

Sally shook her head quickly.

"You're sure?"

She waited a few moments before shaking her head again.

I stood while Sally pulled her pajamas up. I glanced at Sally's clock. It was now 7:10.

"I'm going back to bed for a while. Why don't you go down to the living room and make sure you haven't left anything there. If I find one of your toys where it shouldn't be when I get up, well have to have another session, understand?"

Sally nodded. "I understand," she whispered.

Sally scurried from the room and I heard her thumping down the stairs. I got heavily to my feet and crossed the hall to my room.

"Did poor Sally wally get a spankey wankey?" I heard Betsy mock from downstairs.

"Sh'up, Betsy," replied Sally.

"Sally got a spankin', Sally got a spankin'," Betsy sing-songed merrily.

"I can't hear the show!" shouted Lori, her infamous voice nearing its ear-bleeding octaves.

Betsy continued to mock Sally.

"Shut up you little brat!" yelled Sally.

I sighed.

Moments later I was down the stairs. "Betsy!" I hollered over the din. Quiet descended. Betsy looked at me with wide eyes, her hands clenched firmly to her butt. Sally smiled vengefully.

"Why don't you come over here, Betsy."

My twelve-year-old sister approached slowly, her hands still on her bottom. I knelt, took her by the wrist, and bent her across a knee. I lifted her night gown and lowered her pink panties.

My hand left pink outlines on Betsy's tanned butt. Betsy is darker completed than the rest of us. It take slonger to redden her butt. Betsy squirmed and tried to get away. She always tries to get away even though she knows it never works.

I let the little hellion go and she leapt away from me, her face red and wet.

"Dropped these," said Sally lightly as she picked Betsy's pink panties from where they'd been flung.

"That's enough," I said to Sally with a warning look.

Sally lost her grin quickly.

"I'm going back to bed for an hour and I don't want to hear a word out of any of you until I get up. Starting now." I turned and began climbing the stairs.

"Got what you deserved," I heard Lori mutter.

"Lori," I growled without turning around. "What did I just say?"

I heard Lori gasp. "I just... I mean..."

"Come here," I cut her off. I turned around as Lori left the couch and walked up the stairs toward me. I sat on the stairs.

Lori stopped on the stair just below mine. I took the ten-year-old by the shoulder and turned her around, grasped the leg holes of the yellow panties just peaking from underneath her shirt and pulled them down. I bent her over at the waist, causing her shirt to ride up and expose her fanny. 

I gave her five, quick and sharp.

Lori cried out, and when I released her she hurried back down the stairs, her hands around her bottom.

I looked at the clock again. 7:15.

"You can watch television quietly, or play in your rooms, or whatever, but stay quiet for at least an hour." With that, I went upstairs to my room, closed the door, and crept back into bed. My muscles slowly relaxed as I looked at the dark inside of my eyelids. For almost three minutes, there was nothing but the murmur of the television downstairs.

Then someone screamed, and it wasn't one of Lori's happy little screams either. Naturally, I was downstairs in a flash, my heart pounding.

Betsy and Lori were rolling around on the floor, pulling at each other's hair. Sally was in the process of turning up the television as loud as she could to drown out the fighting sisters.

"Shut up you two!" Sally shouted.

I snatched the remote from Sally who looked at me in astonishment (astonishment!) and turned off the television. Then I moved to the two tussling on the floor and physically dragged them apart.

"That is it!" I shouted. "You three all get your hairbrushes and wait for me in the den."

The three girls looked suddenly very sad.

"Now!"

Sally, Betsy, and Lori got to their feet and walked slowly upstairs without a word.

"Wait, where's Terry?" Then, with sudden horrible insight, I turned to the kitchen just in time to see it happen. Terry had set a small glass on the kitchen floor and had retrieved the brand new pitcher of orange juice I had mixed. Quite calmly, she upturned the pitcher over the glass. Juice splashed across the kitchen floor, soaking her socks. The nine-year-old sat down (sat down for goodness sake!) in that mess and drank her quarter glass of juice in one swallow.

The four of us stared at Terry in disbelief. I turned to my other sisters. "Go on, I'll be in the den in five minutes and you'd better be there."

They hurried off.

I went into the kitchen and stood at the edge of the puddle. Terry stood up when she saw me.

"Terry, what have I told you about this?"

She looked around at the mess. "I'm sorry Lindsey," she said, pouting.

I shook my head. "You're in big trouble young lady." Removing Terry's juice soaked clothes, I left them on the table for the moment and carried the sticky little girl to the bathroom where I put her in the tub with a sharp smack to her bottom.

"Ouch!"

Terry wanted to play in the tub, but I quickly rinsed her and dried her.

"Now," I told her, draping a towel over her shoulders, "Go get your hairbrush and meet me in the den." Terry sniffled and pouted, but scampered off to do as I'd told her.

I sighed. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

At 7:35, I entered the den. The den is a dark room, with a black leather chair behind a large dark polished desk. The carpet is dark green and there's a black leather couch that matches the chair against one wall. The lighting is all dim. It used to be my father's, but now it's mine. I took my stool from its customary place behind the desk and set it in the center of the room.

Each of my sisters stood in one of the corners of the room, a wooden hairbrush in hand. The rules of being sent to the den are simple. The miscreant is to bring her hairbrush to be paddled with and may not wear any clothes below the waist. I came up with the second rule after numerous attempts by Betsy to put on several pairs of panties before a paddling.

Terry was still stark naked while Betsy and Lori had removed their panties and Sally her pajama bottoms.

I thought for a moment, then sat on the stool.

"Terry," I called.

Terry turned around and walked to me slowly, showing me her big sad pouty face.

"You've created a mess twice this morning after being repeatedly warned." I took her hairbrush. "Bend over my lap."

Terry did as she was told. Her damp skin against my bare lap felt cold. I gripped her about the waist and commenced with the paddling.

Terry cried and howled. The brush left little pink ovals all over her pale backside. Terry's legs kicked as she cried. By the tenth spank, she was trying to promise that she'd never do it again, but the tears got in the way. It had, I told myself, been an accident. I didn't spank Terry as hard as I might have.

I ended the nine-year-old's spanking with two firm swats to either thigh.

I lifted Terry off my lap and led her by her wrist back to her corner, putting her hairbrush on the desk. Terry quietly rubbed her bottom.

I walked next to Sally and took her by the ear.

"Oh!" she whispered plaintively.

"I asked for quiet," I told her as we went to the stool. "And what did you do? You turned up the television and yelled at your sisters."

I sat down and took Sally's brush.

"But I just..." she trailed off, tears already streaming down her face.

Taking Sally by the wrist, I pulled her over my lap and spanked her.

Sally, at thirteen, is bigger than the others and has begun developing more of a bottom to be smacked. I peppered her bare butt with the hairbrush, turning it pink quickly. Sally reacted much as she always did. She laid docilely over my lap, her legs kicking at each spank. She offered no pleas, just cried pietously.

I stopped smacking the blonde girl's behind and took her back to her corner where she leaned her head against the wall.

Next I went to Lori and took her by the ear. She screamed shortly, and I smacked her bottom as we walked. I sat down and took her brush.

"You know fighting isn't allowed," I told her.

She nodded, her hands wringing her shirt nervously.

"Bend over."

She did so.

Lori cried loudly. She always cries loudly. I made sure to spank her hard, covering every inch of her bottom with pink circles. She bucked wildly, and put a hand back to cover her bottom. I moved the hand out of the way and continued.

Lori's entire bottom was pink with red splotches making the higher points of her bottom. She was still kicking frantically as I finished. I lifted her by her shoulders and carried her to her corner where she began a mad little dance, hopping up and down and rubbing her bottom. She turned around to face me and I made her to face her corner again.

"Nose in the corner." I swatted her with the brush.

With three crying little girls taken care of, I approached the last, Betsy. Betsy squirmed and fidgeted in her corner. I took her by the ear and led her to my stool. Betsy squealed and tried to wrench away, but only succeeded in twisting her own ear. I took her brush from her and took her across my lap before she could make a break for it. I lifted her night gown over her bare bottom. Her bottom was still pink from the earlier spanking.

"Fighting gets you a big spanking," I told her sternly as she squirmed on my bare lap. "As you should know by now."

Betsy cried and bucked and squirmed as I spanked her with her hairbrush. She put both hands back in an effort to cover her bottom and I had to wrestle them out of the way before I could continue. I paddled Betsy's thighs halfway through the spanking, and she squealed mighitily.

When Betsy's bottom and thighs were a uniform pink, I stopped and put her brush with the others on the desk, then returned her to her corner. For the next five minutes, I sat on my stool as the girls rubbed their bottoms and the crying faded away.

"All right girls," I said finally, "You can come out of your corners now." The four turned and hurried to me, and we shared a group hug.

I glanced at the clock as we left. It was 8:00.

All in the space of an hour.

As the girls went about their morning, I felt a tug at my shirt. I looked down to see Terry, still nude, looking up at me.

"Can I talk now?" she asked.

I nodded. "What do you need?"

"Umm..." she looked at me guilelessly, "Can I have a glass of orange juice?"

I laughed.


End file.
